“Yeah,” Jake said. “No rescue by Terry this time. I guess we’re really screwed. I screwed this up.”
“You didn’t screw anything up,” Henri said. “You had bad luck pushing into a dangerous situation. Keep your focus and shift your attention on surviving.”
“We can take our chances sneaking away on the outboard.”
The French mechanic frowned.
“You’d place our hopes on a tiny motor designed to maneuver us against a pier.”
“The current will eventually carry us away.”
“Away to where?”
“Away from Israel and its navy.”
“And then what?”
Jake had to glance at a chart to grope for an answer.
“Then we can risk the noise and try using our shaft to make for friendly landfall. Turkish Cyprus, for example. Or have Terry come rescue us once we’re out of the battle.”
“That sounds desperate.”
Jake let frustration overcome him, and he raised his voice.
“It is desperate!”
Wanting to apologize, he hesitated and let Henri speak.
“You’re right. It is desperate. I shouldn’t push you when you’re under the stress of a command decision.”
“My decision is to keep our hopes alive of evading,” Jake said. “We’ll use the outboard and the current, and I’ll stake all our lives on Antoine’s ability to hear any new danger with enough time to do something about it.”
The Frenchman assumed the paternal tone that had given Jake confidence for years.
“Then your decision is made,” Henri said. “We are stranded, but we’re still a fighting warship. We’re still quiet, and we can hear and shoot our adversary. Anyone who would brave attacking us must risk their own annihilation. All hope is not lost.”
CHAPTER 20
Commander Levy burned his eyes on his low-frequency feed.
“Executive officer!”
The portly man looked up from across the table.
“Give me an optimum course and speed to put me six miles from the Specter’s last known location as fast as possible.”
“You mean the point of the missile attack?”
“Yes, you dimwit. Do you know a better location for the Specter?”
The man fell silent and began dragging lines on the capacitive screen.
“Fourteen knots, sir,” he said. “Course two-four-two.”
“Damn you,” Levy said. “That can’t be right.”
“That’s the solution, sir.”
Levy glared at the geometry but found it flawless.
“How much battery charge are you calculating?”
“Thirty percent, sir. That’s the standard—”
“I know the cursed standards. I said to get me there as fast as possible. I didn’t say to adhere to any rules that slow me down. Recalculate with three percent battery remaining.”
The officer drew new lines.
“Eighteen knots, sir. Same course. Two-four-two.”
“That’s better. Make it happen.”
While the executive officer hailed the veteran mechanic to manipulate the Crocodile’s dynamics, Levy turned to his sonar ace.
“I want all ears listening for the Specter.”
“All ears, sir?” the supervisor asked.
“Everyone sitting at a sonar station listens for the Specter. I need to strike before this accursed mercenary ship finds a magical way out of this. This fleet’s history is filled with fantastic escapes.”
As Levy retreated to his chair on the conning platform, his self-assured sonar expert challenged him anew.
“The Specter will hear us at six miles, sir.”
“With our bow-on aspect? I don’t think so.”
“At eighteen knots, the sound models support it.”
“Then your sound models are wrong. Recalculate them.”
“I’ll recalculate, sir. Also, what do you want me to do with the drones?”
Levy realized his blood lust had blinded him to the complete tactical picture, and he’d ignored the speed limit of his roving sonar devices. He deflected with a platitude.
“I expect you to know how to handle such details,” he said. “I await your recommendation.”
“Drone two can reach the Specter’s last known location a few minutes ahead of us and even reach a few miles farther south, if you want it to.”
“Of course, I want it to.”
“I’ll have it sent ahead, then, sir.”
Levy felt himself reasserting his authority.
“Very well.”
“As for drone one, sir, it’s lost unless you want to drag it behind us as a sea anchor.”
Muted chuckles suggested his crew’s fear of his positional power was waning. He saw the faces of those whose eyes dared express derision and flagged those men for disciplinary measures. Atop the list — his resilient sonar leader.
“Watch your tone with me, sailor.”
“I apologize, sir,” the supervisor said.
“That sounds insincere. Don’t mock me.”
“I was out of line, sir. I owe you better professionalism.”
“That’s better.”
“I recommend cutting the wire to drone one, sir.”
Levy barked at his senior veteran mechanic.
“Cut the wire to drone one, tube five. Reload tube five with a torpedo.”
As the veteran acknowledged the order, Levy noticed his sonar ace standing and approaching him.
“You have some nerve the way you speak to me.”
“That’s why I’m making a peace offering, sir. I’m letting you know privately that the sound models support counter-detection from the Specter out to eight and a half miles at eighteen knots, even with our bow-on aspect. Consider this my real apology. You can now adjust your tactics with this private knowledge.”
“You’re still in my debt for your behavior, but I’ll remember this gesture.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Back to your station.”
“One more thing, sir, if I may?”
“Go ahead.”
“We don’t know if the Specter is crippled, barely scraped, or somewhere in between. I say we should roust it with the drone to figure it out.”
The comment stimulated Levy.
“I see your point. The worst that could happen is I warn the Specter’s crew that I’m coming, but they should already have deduced that.”
“And if the ship is undamaged, sir, they’ve already driven away. You lose nothing by using the drone in that case.”
“But the best case is that I could gather a targeting solution on a crippled target without having to risk a counter-attack.”
“Precisely, sir. I recommend turning on the drone’s active seeker in ten minutes.”
The supervisor’s abilities impressed Levy, and he decided to ally with him. After years learning to manipulate people, he knew a simple kind gesture would misdirect the man’s suspicions long enough to suit his needs.
If he’d known how, he would have forced a smile, but he left that difficult trick to polished politicians.
“Thank you,” he said. “I value your input, and I’ll remember your contributions.”
“It’s my pleasure to help the team, sir.”
The sonar expert returned to his chair.
Sprinting at eighteen knots with exclusive focus on the Specter, Levy stretched his legs and moved to the room’s center. He hovered around the tactical chart awaiting news.
After eight minutes, impatience compelled him.
“Transmit active from the drone,” he said. “Maximum power, twenty-degree search centered on the last known location of the Specter.”